The Mutiny Home
by The Cheshire Cheese
Summary: AU: When more senior officers have children onboard, they're less willing to stick by Starfleet rules. Chakotay leads a Maquis mutiny, to break the Prime Directive and get Voyager home. Problems arise from the Vulcans aboard, all hell breaks loose, and Harry Kim takes over the munity. (P/T, Kes/N, and vague hints of C/7, C/J, and Kim/OC.)
1. The Mutiny

**A/N: This is set in a universe where most of the "Almost-Had-Babies" episodes came true. Kes and Neelix procreated in "Eloguim;" Seska's baby was Chakotay's; Ensign Harper had a baby, just like her duplicate in "Course Oblivion;" and the Borg kids never left the ship. Kes also remained onboard, after Seven joined. **

**This story was meant to be a one-shot, but got just too long for that. I'm calling the sections "parts" instead of "chapters," because as far as I'm concerned, it's still a short-story, not a "novella."**

* * *

**PART I: The Mutiny**

"Seven, what's going on?" Metzoti demanded.

Seven of Nine continued preparing her weapons, ignoring the confused looks from her four surrogate children. She double-checked her phaser, and placed it in its hold on her belt. She sheathed the Klingon dagger B'Elanna had replicated for her into one of her maroon knee-high boots. Metzoti and the twins stood in the cargo bay, watching Seven in bafflement. Icheb sat on the stoop of a regeneration alcove, his hands resting on his knees.

"I have a hypothesis," Icheb offered.

"You should keep it to yourself." Seven said, adjusting the red vest over her dark-orange jumpsuit.

"I _will_ keep the change of command to myself," Icheb retorted, "If you promise to give us the full story in a timely manner."

"Change of command?" One of the twins raised his eyebrows.

Seven took a deep, frustrated breath. "Very well. We haven't much time at the moment, so I'll provide a summary. You'll hear the details from Commander Chakotay soon enough." Clasping her hands behind her back, she looked each child in the eye. "Several weeks ago, Voyager encountered a special rift similar to a wormhole, which would take us back to Earth. The anomaly however is controlled by an alien race called the Zunori that refuses contact of any kind with outsiders. We've tried to reach some form of agreement but their leaders refuse to even meet for a discussion. Starfleet officials have discussed the matter with Captain Janeway through the Pathfinder link, and offered to speak with the aliens themselves, but to no avail. Starfleet can't send any ships in to assist us from the other side, as the rift is only 'one way.'" Seven gazed down at the phaser on her belt. "There is a matter of urgency. The end of the rift that leads to Earth _won't_ for long. Our end of the rift stays fixed above the aliens' planet, but the other end shifts positions in the galaxy randomly, like the wagging tail of a canine."

"How do we know all this," Rebi asked, "If the aliens won't even talk to us?"

"A small group of rogue scientists met with the senior staff. They offered to give Voyager information on how to fight the ships controlling the wormhole, but this would violate Starfleet protocol on at least two grounds. One—"

"It's against the Prime Directive to disobey an alien government in its own territory," Icheb finished, "except under extreme circumstances, such as saving the life of a crewmember."

"Getting Voyager home to Earth wouldn't count as 'extreme circumstances'?" Metzoti piped up.

"Not urgent enough to risk offending an alien government that might declare war on the Federation because of it." Seven said. "And the second reason is the price the rogue scientists are demanding, in return for the information they'd provide. They want information on holo-technology. They believe it could help their society's resistance movement infiltrate government bases. Captain Janeway is already 'on thin ice,' with Starfleet, for trading holo-technology to the Hirogen, among other things."

"None of this explains your change in uniform," Metzoti said, "Nor the need for blades and firearms. Is it likely that the aliens will board the ship during the battle?"

Seven's thought the question over, then simply replied, "You now know as much as the rest of the crew. Commander Chakotay will explain the rest in the mess hall."

* * *

Captain Janeway stood in Neelix's galley, watching over the counter, as if peering from the window of a prison cell. Tuvok and his two best security guards, Ayala, and Andrews, held her there at phaser-point. Their expressions said that they didn't enjoy aiming weapons at their captain. But their earthy-colored Maquis uniforms also indicated that they were not acting as Starfleet officers. The captain watched with a hard face, as her crew poured in through the doors, escorted by several former Maquis, wearing their old fighting outfits. Neelix sat at a nearby table with his now elderly mate, Kes, hunched under a mane of white curls.

Chakotay stood in front of the counter, determinately not looking at Kathryn. One hand rested over the phaser on his belt; the other, on the shoulder of his four-year-old son. The half-human, half-Cardassian child watched the crowd with an innocent curiosity. Another minute or two, and everyone would be there. Chakotay looked down at his son. Kolopak's black hair and eyes were identical to Chakotay's, but his mother's Cardassian features were surprisingly prominent. For the first year it had been painful, at times maddening, to see his family's features mixed with Seska's. Seeing Seska's long lips and cobra-like forehead on his son, who he loved with all his heart. But that had changed when Seven of Nine came along. Chakotay now saw the Cardassian "spoon" and ridges the way he saw Seven's Borg implants. They were scars, nothing more.

"Nomi!" Kolopak exclaimed softly, as the preteen Naomi Wildman entered with her mother.

"Shhh, Kol," Chakotay said, as Naomi smiled and waved.

Chakotay's attention drifted around Voyager's other children. It was a small group; much of the crew already had families at home that they weren't willing to give up on. But a few had made a start for themselves. The three grown children of Neelix and Kes, conceived when their mother entered her Elogium prematurely, were standing together near their parents. All three had Talaxian spots, and Wix, the son, had the sideburns. They all had the constricted, horse-mane-like hairline of a Talaxian. But that hair was gold and feathery, like their mother's. All had Kes' pixie-like facial features, and their ears were more Ocompan than Talaxian. Wix and his sister Alexia had already taken mates among the crew. Wix and Jenny Delany stood by their daughter Majel—a pale girl with her mother's mane of dark curly hair, framing her feint Talaxian spots and eleven face. Thanks to that Ocompan grandmother, the child appeared six or seven, despite being less than a year old. Alexia meanwhile was pregnant and widowed; she'd moved back in with Kes and Neelix, after her husband, Crewman Emanuel, had been killed two weeks earlier. The last daughter, Martis, was single, but had her eye on Harry Kim.

Naomi Wildman didn't seem confused or nervous, like some of the adults. She exchanged knowing looks with her mother and the Borg children, who were over by Seven. Chakotay had granted the parents in his mutiny permission to tell their children what was going on, to give them as much preparation as possible. Ensign Samantha Wildman wore a new Maquis uniform she'd replicated for herself, made up of earthy browns and greens. All of the parents, not to Chakotay's surprise, had volunteered to join his mutiny, and now stood over their children in Maquis uniforms. He saw Lt. Walter Baxter and Ensign Emilia Harper with their two young daughters. The two Bajoran/human families—Tal Celes and William Teffler, who had one toddler son, and Jor and Tabor, with their son and daughter. Then there was the Betazoid Crewman Jarot, who'd volunteered to "help" Ensign Vorik with his Pon Faar, and bore his son Nordak. They shared custody of their son, and otherwise kept their distance from each other. After that, Tom and B'Elanna would be the newest pair of parents on Voyager (unless Alexia beat them to it).

When it seemed everyone had entered, Chakotay nodded to Crewman Jor and Chell, who locked the mess hall doors. Behind him he heard Kathryn take a deep, angry breath. For a moment, the guilt Chakotay had been feeling vanished, as his anger at her position on this issue rose in his chest.

"Looks like everyone's here," Chakotay began. "Since we—"

"Not quite everyone," said B'Elanna. The pregnant chief engineer leaned against the wall, in a maternity variation of her Maquis outfit; she had her old vest and boots, but had traded the tight pants and shirt for a loose brown dress. "Tom and Harry left a few minutes ago to get their new uniforms. They said they'd just thought of something."

The locked doors chimed, and Chakotay nodded to his guards to let Tom and Harry in. The helmsman and the communications officer hurried into the mess hall, dressed in their Captain Proton costumes.

"We late?" Tom asked, resting his hand casually on his phaser.

Well, at least they had real phasers, and not their "blasters."

"Oh…really?" B'Elanna stared wearily at her husband and best friend.

Harry looked around and shrugged. "What else're we gonna wear?"

There came an amused, wheezy chuckle from Kes, as she watched at Tom and Harry.

Chakotay, having run out of patience, announced over Kes's laughter, "I've taken command of Voyager! For the time being." He looked behind him and saw Kathryn gripping the sides of the counter, glaring at him. He turned back around. "Once we've reached Earth, I'll surrender the ship and myself to Starfleet command. Between then and now, you'll be following _my_ orders. Or spending the trip in the brig. I'll testify to Starfleet the force I used to make you all join my mutiny, how I threatened to kill your captain if you tried to stop me."

"How _noble_ of you." The captain sneered.

"You'd rather spend your time in prison than in the Delta Quadrant?" asked a crewman, whose name escaped Chakotay at the moment.

"I'd rather my son grow up under a blue sky, among his own tribe, than stranded on a starship until he gets assimilated by the Borg, or aliens start playing games with his _mind_." Chakotay snapped.

Kolopak was clinging to the leg of Chakotay's pants with one tiny fist, staring up at his father. Chakotay's tone had his son's full attention, but it didn't occur to Kol to be confused. Chakotay lifted the boy into his arms, then turned back to the crew.

"Some of you weren't here yet when my son was born." He smiled tightly, just for a moment. "My father once told me a story."

Tom Paris dropped his head into a rubbing face-palm. Chakotay gave him a look, and raised his voice just slightly.

"One of my direct ancestors was a product of rape."

Tom's head shot back up. Chakotay had the crew's undivided attention. He didn't look behind him, but he sensed he had the captain's too.

"By Spanish conquistadors. His mother didn't blame him for what his father had done to her. He grew up to be a great leader of our people. If I could turn back time, I wouldn't stop his conception, nor his birth. Even knowing the horror the rape and pregnancy must've done to his mother. And I wouldn't go back in time to stop Seska from taking my DNA. Even when wake in the middle of the night…sweating from that torture session…feeling Seska pull my uniform opened and violate my body…I still won't change it. Because my son is precious to me." Kol was playing with the laces of Chakotay's vest, his father's speech nothing but background noise. "I cherish him. And I'd die for him."

By now he'd shocked _himself_, by sharing something so private with the entire crew. He normally wouldn't even discuss his dating life with anyone but his closest friends. It had taken a lot of rage and determination to get him to finally say these words out loud to anyone.

"But know _this_." Chakotay tightened his grip on his son. "If Seska came back from the dead, and tried that on you, Harry. Or you, Vorik." Chakotay shook his head. "I'd kill her. Right there. With my bare hands if I had to." His eyes began darting around the female shipmates. "And if someone hurt any of you, and tried to force you to bring along into the world something you didn't want…I'd help you put a stop to it."

In the crowd, one crewman's jaw dropped.

"I'm grateful for my son. I'm grateful for Seven of Nine, Icheb, Metzoti, Azan and Rebi, that they were rescued from the Collective. B'Elanna and Tom…I can't tell you how happy I am for you two. This ship, this journey, has _saved_ so many, in so many different ways. But I'm not willing to keep us all stranded here, just on the off-chance that more good will come from it. We've been lucky to gain the friends and children we have, and why tempt fate. Why throw them at the mercy of the Delta Quadrant, when home can be a day away."

"Because it's _wrong_." Janeway bellowed from the galley, almost hoarsely.

B'Elanna replied surprisingly calmly, "You might feel a little different, if you had children, Captain."

Chakotay was glad he was facing away from Kathryn, and didn't have to see her reaction. Speaking far more gently than before, he said, "She's not the Captain anymore. I am. Until we get through that rift. After that, you can all just call me Chakotay. And Kathryn Janeway, I expect, will be made admiral, for her accomplishments in the Delta Quadrant." Realizing this could be taken the wrong way, he added, "I'm being sincere, by the way."

* * *

From behind the counter, Tuvok watched Chakotay set his son back down, and begin to describing the plans for the next few days: how they'd meet with the alien scientists who'd agreed to help, and make sure they knew Voyager would be acting as a Maquis ship, and that the Federation had no part in any of this.

"…and that way, if they want to declare war on someone, it'll have to be the Maquis." Chakotay smiled bitterly. "Good luck with _that_."

As Voyager's new captain went on, Tuvok heard Vorik's voice enter his mind.

_It is troubling that the Commander should bear the consequences of this mutiny, when most of us participated willingly. _

_Indeed. _Tuvok replied, taking care not to look in Vorik's direction

Kes glanced in at Vorik and Tuvok. Her children and grandchildren, however, were too distracted by Chakotay's speech, and had weaker mental powers; they hadn't picked up on the conversation. Simultaneously, Tuvok and Vorik put up a mental block around their minds, disallowing Kes from "entering." The aged Ocompan took notice, and slowly turned away, giving them one last, suspicious glance.

Tuvok continued "speaking" to Vorik. _I have already discussed this with the other senior officers. We will attempt to defend Chakotay in court. We will not abandon him._

A female voice joined in. _But Starfleet won't take this offense lightly. Chakotay has already broken the law by joining the Maquis, and the many times he's disobeyed Captain Janeway's orders. _This voice belonged to Crewmen T'Lei, half-human, half-Vulcan. Because her feathery blonde hair often hid her ears, it was easy to mistaken the red-uniformed crewwoman for a full-blooded human, from afar.

_In fact, _added another female voice, _Most if not all of the senior staff have disobeyed direct orders, as have several others on this ship. It is likely we shall all be court marshaled in some form or another. _ This "speaker" was T'Vora, three-fourths Vulcan, one-fourth Romulan, and a former Maquis.

_Nevertheless, _Tuvok replied, _it is this incident in particular that would be most damaging to Chakotay's record. Up until now, Starfleet appeared to be veering towards lenience in regards to Voyager's Maquis, and the overall epidemic of protocol-breaches on this ship. Were Chakotay able to take us through this spatial rift without a mutiny, it is likely he would serve a short prison sentence, if any at all, and go on to live a normal life. _

"…and the uniforms." Chakotay looked around the crowd with one hand on his hip. "Lose them. We won't be boasting Starfleet uniforms, not even Starfleet com badges, when we're going through with this. The Doctor's handing out your new Maquis com badges right now…and…I guess Neelix is handing out sandwiches…."

"And coffee!" Neelix added cheerfully. "Forgive me Commander, but mutinies always make me a little nervous. And culinary work helps me unwind!"

Neelix was moving through the crowd with a tray of small sandwiches and coffee. When he reached Janeway, she gave the Talaxian a murderous look, and reluctantly helped herself to a cup and a cucumber sandwich.

Vorik reentered Tuvok's mind. _It seems Chakotay has taken steps to ensure our "innocence" in the eyes of Starfleet. Perhaps we can, in return, find a way to ensure his "innocence." _

_A deception might be in order, _T'Lei said. _The insanity plea could work, if the Doctor can provide "evidence." _

_Unfortunately, _countered Tuvok, _It would be double-checked by others in Starfleet, and any deceptions would eventually be found, in all likelihood_.

As Chakotay talked on, another Vulcan entered the conversation: _Alien possession is another possible excuse. _Sakornik, a petite, green-uniformed Vulcan with small slanted eyes. _Such incidents are an occupational hazard aboard Federation ships, and often leave behind no evidence. _

_Indeed. _Added Balok, the last Vulcan onboard who hadn't yet joined in.

_Ships logs would have to be altered, _Tuvok said. _We do not have time. And it would seem overall extremely "convenient" for our situation. It would not be believable. _

_But, _T'Vora's "voice" became optimistic, _Supposing there was no deception. Supposing the Commander was clearly suffering from cognitive disarray when Voyager arrived in the Alpha Quadrant. Any doctor who examined him could confirm his insanity. And supposing any psychologist, telepath or empath who questioned him found he had clear memories of being infected by radiation, or an alien attacker…._

Tuvok blinked calmly, as he considered T'Vora's proposal. He understood exactly what T'Vora was implying. It was a promising idea, if somewhat morally horrific. He mused that only someone with Romulan heritage would think of such an idea.

_I will choose to take that as a compliment, Commander. _T'Vora thought in response.

"You're Starfleet officers!" Janeway's voice echoed from the galley, desperate and angry. "You took an oath! Your duty is to maintain order among alien civilizations, not change the balance of power for your own convenience!"

Tom Paris threw the captain that squinting glare of his. "Our _duty_ is to our families!"

Janeway stared wide-eyed at Tom, and almost seemed close to tears, but held her own. It impressed Tuvok, how seriously Tom had everyone taking him at the moment, despite his juvenile Captain Proton costume.

The (former) captain smashed her glass teacup on the counter, reached over Chakotay and held one jagged edge against his throat.

"I'm telling you all _now_, call off this childish stunt and _give me my ship back_."

Tuvok didn't hesitate to fire, stunning the captain. As her shard of glass clattered to the floor, Chakotay spun around and grabbed her, before she collapsed.

"Sickbay?" The Doctor asked, moving out of the crowd to tend the captain.

"No." Chakotay looked at his best friend, with regret in his eyes. "The brig."


	2. The Meld

**PART II: The Meld **

Hours after Chakotay's speech, the senior staff met with the leaders of the Zunori rogue group, that had agreed to help them. The Zunori were humanoid, but just barely. Their skin was lumpy and reptilian, sporting a marble swirl of blue and black. They had six eyes, each pair a different size, like spiders. (Crewman Teffler, an arachnophobic, was avoiding them at all costs.) The frazzled indigo hair that tumbled over their shoulders reminded B'Elanna of Klingons.

B'Elanna sat at the briefing table, along with Tom, Harry, the Doctor, Neelix, Kes, and Seven. Tuvok and Chakotay were leading their guests from the transporter room. While everyone waited for Voyager's new captain and first officer to arrive, B'Elanna busied herself rehearsing the information she'd share at the meeting, and admiring everyone's new Maquis outfits. Seeing the Maquis symbol on everyone's chest (replacing the Starfleet com badges) was a bittersweet experience for B'Elanna. She wondered if the Zunori would notice that Tom and Harry looked a tad out of place, in their 20th century jeans and buttoned up shirts, Tom with his black leather jacket. Probably not. Neelix and Kes were dressed no differently than usual, as they never wore uniforms to begin with. Kes, in her old age, now wore long dresses, much like the one B'Elanna had on now, but with brightly colored Ocompan designs. Even nearing the end of her life, Kes retained her beauty, her blue eyes shining brightly under her white curled hair.

Seven technically didn't need to change uniforms either, but for some reason, had insisted. In the last year, the ex-drone had gained a stronger desire than ever before to be "human" and fit in with the rest of the crew. And B'Elanna had noticed the way Seven now looked at Chakotay, and how often she brought up the commander's "admirable qualities" in conversation. With any luck for Seven, Chakotay had noticed how great she looked in her new Maquis uniform. The earthy-orange outfit was snug-fitting enough to flatter Seven's already perfect figure, but not so "overkill" tight as her biosuits. The rolled-up sleeves were a good look for Seven, B'Elanna decided.

The doors hissed opened and Chakotay and Tuvok entered, with the three visiting Zunori. Chakotay's eyes lingered on Seven longer than anyone else, and that made B'Elanna smile. The meeting got underway, and the Zunori described exactly how Voyager should enter the rift, what time would be the least risky, and how to fight the attacking ships.

"They are not above following you into the spatial rift," one Zunori warned. "They have waged entire battles within slipstream-space. They guard their traveling tunnels jealously."

"You must stay perfectly on course," another Zunori added. "If you deviate even by a few degrees, your ship may come flying out the other side as if shot from a catapult. You'd likely end up in a star, or crashing on some planet."

"I'll be at the helm," Tom assured them. "We'll be okay."

B'Elanna put her hand over the daughter in her stomach, and wondered if this was worth the risk. But she wanted Miral to be safe in the Alpha Quadrant, away from the Borg and the Hirogen and Species 8472, and wanted to see her father hold his granddaughter. B'Elanna chose not to let herself even think about the risks of this whole operation. They took risks every day on Voyager.

* * *

The children were all left in the mess hall, being watched by Neelix and Alexia. Icheb was old enough to help in engineering, and was there now working with B'Elanna and her team. Chakotay sat in the captain's chair, but Tuvok stayed at his security station. In the first officer's chair sat Kes, whose telepathy and other mental powers might come in handy. Seven stood at her station behind the captain and first officer's chairs. Samantha Wildman sat at her regular Engineering station off to the side, and Kes' daughter Martis worked at a panel near Harry. The viewscreen showed a tunnel of blue light, moving like rapids. Tom was taking them through without any trouble, so far at least.

Kes leaned back in her chair and croaked, "Commander—_Captain_, they're watching us from the other end. They're preparing something."

"Like what?"Chakotay asked, keeping his voice flat. "An armada?"

"No," the old Ocompan squinted. "They're sending something in…like a weapon. It must be those proton blasts the Zunori warned us about…"

They scientists had warned the senior staff that their military could fire torpedoes into the rift, destroying ships from the inside. This was as much a reason for Voyager's heavy shields as the dangers of the rift itself.

Tuvok spoke from his station. "Shields are still holding at maximum level."

Chakotay rubbed his mouth thoughtfully. "Guess we'll just have to hope that's good enough….unless we can fire something back that could stop it from—"

Voyager shook, as it was hit with something from the back.

"A torpedo," Tuvok announced, working hard at his consol. "They are firing massive weapons at us from the other side."

"Tom, can you increase our speed?" Chakotay asked.

Another hit, and they all gripped their chairs or consoles.

"That's a negative!" Tom called back. "Unless you want us to go flying into the Alpha Quadrant _completely_ out of control and _crash_ into Earth!"

"Damn."

"We should fire back!" Seven insisted.

"We can't even see what we'll hit!" Chakotay countered.

"They attacked us!" Seven gripped her station as the ship shook again. "Fire on an alien military base, or allow them to destroy this ship and the children aboard. Decide wisely, Captain."

Before Chakotay could respond another blast hit them, harder than any of the others. People were doubled over their consoles, and Kes was thrown from her chair. Martis almost went flying over Harry's consol, but the ensign caught her around the waist, pulling her back. Chakotay gripped the computer panel he'd been typing on, and wound up half on the floor, clinging to it. Smoke filled the bridge. His first thought was to make sure Kes was alright. Seven ducked under the railing and climbed down to help her old friend up. Since Seven had that taken care of, Chakotay leaped up, grabbed the railing, and jumped it like a fence, then ran to Tuvok's station.

"Start with the chronotron torpedoes Tuvok…"

"Vorik to the Bridge: Lt. Torres has just left engineering with Ensign Seras and Crewman Nicoletti. She's gone into labor. Shall I take command in Engineering?"

Chakotay's thought a moment before he barked, "Yes! Anything else?"

"Negative. Vorik out."

Tom almost looked over his shoulder at Chakotay, but stopped himself, and kept his eyes fixed on his consol. Now was not a good time for the helmsman's wife to go into labor.

Kes, who was standing by Seven at her station, suddenly cried, "Captain!"

Before anyone could ask, a Zunori ship entered the viewscreen, soaring straight over Voyager, making Tom and several others duck instinctively. The ship tumbled gracefully in space, until it was turned to face Voyager. Two others followed it.

"Oh," Tom groaned, "That's not fair."

"Harry open a channel!" Chakotay ordered.

"I'm trying…they're not responding."

Chakotay clenched his jaw. "Send them an audio!"

"Aye sir."

"Zunori ships! This is Captain Chakotay. We have children aboard, a pregnant woman, and a woman in labor. I repeat, children aboard, and a woman in labor. Hold your fire!"

Tom slammed the palm of his hand on his consol. "They don't _care_ Chakotay, they don't view children like we do! _They lay eggs_ for god's sake!"

"I'm opened to suggestions!" Chakotay shouted.

"They _want _us to keep fighting," Kes gripped the railing with both hands, looking ahead intently. "They want us to use our ship's energy…They're not trying to destroy our ship. They're trying to make _us_ use up our energy, so our shields won't hold in the rift anymore, so we'll be forced exit…"

"They want us to punch ourselves out…" Chakotay mused. "Tuvok, cease fire for now."

"Captain?" The Vulcan stared at him.

Chakotay left Tuvok's station and headed back for his chair. "We're gonna take a few hits. Fire back only when necessary. Conserve our energy for the rift. Chakotay to all hands; brace for impact, and don't let go until I say so."

For a while, this tactic appeared to work well. So well, in fact, that Chakotay found himself running out of things to do.

"Zunori ships are still firing," Harry reported—unnecessarily, as the blasts made it obvious.

"Commander," Tuvok said suddenly, "Does the duty I'm performing at present require my expertise? Or may Lt. Ayala take my place?"

Caught off guard by the question, Chakotay asked, "Are you asking to be relieved of duty, Tuvok?"

"Negative. I am asking to speak with you in private."

"Now's not a good time."

"I assure you, it is urgent."

Chakotay wondered what the hell Tuvok could have to tell him that he couldn't say in front of the bridge crew. He pushed himself up from his chair. "Make it quick."

They hurried into the Briefing Room, and Chakotay put his hands on his hips. "What is it?"

"I'm concerned for your wellbeing, Commander. This mutiny was most unexpected of you."

Chakotay was disappointed, but not entirely surprised. "I had a feeling _you'd_ be the one to have second thoughts."

Chakotay had deliberately positioned his hand right next to his phaser, and was inching closer to it. Tuvok's eyes turned down to Chakotay's phaser, and then looked back up at him.

"You do not trust me, Captain."

"Not at the moment, no."

"That is regrettable." Tuvok said. "I assure you, I am in full agreement with your actions today. Though I have loyalty to Starfleet, my loyalty to this crew has surpassed it. I am willing to pay the consequences of getting this crew home as much as you are. You have nothing to fear from me."

Chakotay was completely lost. "Then what's the prob—?"

Something pinched his neck, a tight, familiar pain. Chakotay had received the Vulcan nerve pinch twice before.

"Lt. Vorik is the one whom you should be concerned about." Tuvok finished.

In the reflection of the window, Chakotay could see Vorik administering the Vulcan nerve pinch with one hand. He was gripping Chakotay's arm in the other.

"Computer," Tuvok said, swiping Chakotay's com badge off his chest, "Seal doors to the Briefing Room, and mute all sound from this location."

Just as Chakotay's eyes were rolling shut, he managed to bring his fist into Vorik's jaw. Then he elbowed him in the ribs, throwing him off his body completely. Chakotay spun around, drawing his phaser. But Tuovk knocked it clean out of his hand, sending it clamoring around the chairs under the briefing table. Another Vulcan emerged from her hiding place in the corner—one of his own old Maquis crewmen, T'Vora. Her phaser was pointed at Chakotay's chest.

"You must comply with us Chakotay," she said. "And know that we have your best interests in—"

Chakotay lunged at her, reaching for her com. badge. Her hand seized his writs just as his fingertips were an inch above it, stopping him from calling help. With her Vulcan strength, T'Vorah shoved him backward, sending him onto the briefing table. Just as he was pushing himself up, Vorik and Crewmen T'Lei (how many Vulcans were in here?) grabbed his shoulders and arms, forcing him back down.

As Tuvok loomed over him, Chakotay asked hoarsely, "Tuvok what is this?"

"We're simply ensuring your innocence, in the eyes of Starfleet command."

T'Vora gently took hold of Chakotay's head in both hands, and Tuvok placed his fingertips over his forehead. Chakotay was still confused, but it was clear that they planned to put something in his mind, that would make Starfleet think there was a good reason for his actions.

"No!" He struggled briefly. "Please, Tuvok, please, don't."

"You won't be permanently damaged." Tuovk assured him. "You will be…" he raised an eyebrow. "Ill, just long enough for Starfleet to declare you innocent by reason of insanity. You will then make a remarkable recovery, and be properly reunited with your family in the Alpha Quadrant."

"You permitted yourself to 'go crazy' once to save your son and this crew." T'Vora reminded Chakotay. "And the outcome of that incident was uncertain. The outcome of this is perfectly planned. You'll remain deranged for a month at most, then recover and live a normal life. The alternative is to let your son, friends and family visit you in prison for the duration of your life, with the comfort that your pride is intact."

Chakotay glared up at T'Vora. The ex-Maquis knew that when his fear of insanity was pitted against his passion for being the "noble, self-sacrificing" one, the latter always won out.

_Bitch._

* * *

"What's going on in there?" Harry looked dubiously at the briefing room doors.

Another shake, as the Zunori ships hit Voyager again.

"How long 'they been in there?" Tom turned to look.

"Tom!" Kes snapped. "You're driving!"

Tom snapped back to attention at the helm. When Harry announced that the Zunori were targeting their deflector, Ayala stopped the aliens with a couple torpedoes.

Next to Harry, Martis's gold eyes were widening, as she apparently thought something over. Or "sensed" something, with her Ocompan mind powers. She fiddled with the skirt of her long brown Maquis dress, then smoothed her long gold braids, her eyes narrowing in deep thought.

"Martie?" Harry asked.

"I'm sensing a block," she whispered. "A wall. A mental wall. Another telepath's trying to make sure I can't…" she looked at the briefing room doors.

Harry whispered, "Why didn't Kes sense…?"

Another blast, and Martis fell into Harry's arms for a moment.

"My mother's busy at the moment," Martis said, glancing at Kes.

Kes's wrinkled face was still contorted, as she worked to keep up with what the enemy was planning.

Harry and Martis looked at each other, and quietly drew phasers. Careful not to distract Tom or Kes, they moved across the shaking bridge, keeping their free hands on the walls or consoles for leverage. Samantha Wildman, Seven, and other crewmen looked up curiously. Harry found that the doors to the briefing room were sealed.

"Computer," Harry tried, "Override—"

The doors hissed opened, and Chakotay stood before them, looking perfectly fine.

"Chakotay!" Harry almost jumped. "I mean, Captain."

Chakotay grabbed Harry's arm. "Did B'Elanna find the probe?"

Harry's face scrunched up in confusion. "What? What probe?"

Chakotay smiled sarcastically. "The Mars probe." Then he slapped Harry's cheek, hard, and barked, "The one the Cardassians sent to the base! Which probe do you _think_ I'm talking about?!"

Harry stared at Chakotay, then noticed Tuvok lingering behind in the briefing room. Along with what looked like the entire handful of Vulcans in Voyager's crew.

"Ensign," Tuvok moved forward. "I regret to inform you that Chakotay is 'not quite himself' at the moment."

Biting his lip, Harry took Chakotay's arms and pushed himself around him. "What the hell did you green-blooded bastards _do_ to him?!" Harry shouted, so everyone on the bridge could hear.

Kes blinked her blue eyes over to Chakotay, then looked at the Vulcans.

"Mother," Martis was walking backwards in front of Chakotay, as if trying to decide how to contain him. "Mother I'm sensing…disarray."

"Yes," Kes brought her hand to her chin thoughtfully. "Disarray…chaos…but…_contained_ chaos." Kes watched Chakotay return to his seat, and get back to work at his panel with a mad determination. "His mind on how this mission must be carried out is perfectly ordered. But subjects have been replaced. He's seeing the Badlands instead of the Delta Quadrant…a probe instead of Earth…and…right now he thinks I'm giving him a reading of the treaty Starfeet signed with the Cardassians." Kes's powers had weakened in many ways, but when she was in close proximity to someone, they were frighteningly strong. "It's as if he's just sane enough to navigate us to Earth, yet just ill enough to qualify for…" Kes looked over at the Vulcans. "…and _insanity plea_, how convenient."

"As you can see, there is nothing 'convenient' about Chakotay's situation." Vorik argued, lamely.

"I'm not hearing any of this." Tom said, not turning around. "I'm just taking us to Earth and worrying about my wife and daughter. Whatever's going on behind me is _your _problem, everybody. That's all I ask, in return for piloting you all home."

Harry grinned widely, and clapped his hands together. "Well! I don't know about you all, but I'm not so comfortable with a crazy guy leading our mission!" One hand on his phaser, Harry approached Chakotay and clapped him on the back. "Chakotay, you seem stressed out. Why—" Chakotay, without looking up, pulled away from Harry, in a movement so quick it was almost like a giant twitch. "_Why_ don't you take a break for a while," Harry foolishly tried putting his hand back on Chakotay's shoulder. "And get some rest—"

Seven, Kes, Martis, and the Vulcans watched with blank faces, as Chakotay punched Harry square in the face, sending the poor almost across the room. The rest of the bridge reacted as one would expect, except of course for Tom, who refused to turn around.

"Someone gonna make sure my friend's okay?" Tom asked flatly, his eyes still on his consol.

"I'm on it Tom," said Martis, who was already dragging Harry towards the wall, while Harry clutched his bleeding nose.

Seven slowly drew her phaser, her blue eyes fixed on Chakotay.

Chakotay froze, staring into his computer panel. He saw Seven's reflection. She fired as soon as she realized this, but Chakotay dodged out of his chair just in time, with the art of an Indian scout, Maquis soldier, and boxer. Seven clenched her jaw, and took aim again, as Chakotay drew his own phaser.

"Mine's set to kill!" Chakotay warned.

"No it's not," Kes leaned back in her chair.

Harry dabbed his bleeding nose with his sleeve. "Maybe he thinks it is."

"No," Martis said, as Chakotay and Seven circled each other with their phasers. "He knows. He's just bluffing."

By now everyone except Tom and Kes had phasers drawn, but no one was shooting. Some held back because they weren't one-hundred percent convinced that Chakotay's phaser couldn't kill Seven; others just couldn't help but watch how it all played out, like a train wreck.

"_He_ was working for Kathryn," Chakotay jerked his head at Tuvok. "_Seska _was working for the Spoon Heads. Who're you working for Seven, the Borg?"

Seven arched her human eyebrow. "You are correct, Captain. I was placed aboard your vessel by the Borg Queen…" she flipped up her phaser in a surrender motion, moved towards Chakotay and let him snatch it from her. "…in order to study how well a starship functions when its captain has had his brain wiped by a pack of sick-minded Vulcans!"

While spitting out the last sentence, Seven jabbed her assimilation tubes under Chakotay's jaw. He collapsed to his knees, pressing his hand against the forming, silver welt. The phasers clattered to the floor. Seven snatched one of them up, double-checked that it was on "stun," and put him out of his misery. As she stood over Chakotay's unconscious body, Tuvok came up beside her.

"Crude, but effective."

Seven turned her raging blue eyes to Tuvok. "If he does not make a full recovery after we reach Earth, _your_ throat will be next!"

Blonde T'Lei came around Chakotay and knelt beside him. "If he doesn't recover on his own within a month, we'll administer another mind meld and repair the damage."

"You scrambled his brains," Harry joined the little crowd around Chakotay (still holding a clump of his sleeve to his nose), "So Starfleet would let him go on 'insanity.' That's so…"

"Sweet?" Martis offered, watching the scene as if it were the most heartwarming thing she'd ever seen.

"Clever?" Vorik added, with raised eyebrows.

"…_Demented_." Harry finished.

Tom slapped his com badge. "Doc! I wanna check on B'Elanna!"

Over the com everyone could hear B'Elanna's pained groans.

The Doctor responded, "_She's all right Tom. The shaking ship's causing some discomfort, but_—"

"_DIS-COMFORT?!_" B'Elanna roared. "_I CAN SHOW YOU 'DISCOMFORT' YOU SON OF A P'TACH!_"

"_Sticks and stones _won't _break my bones B'Elanna, so_—"

"_Wanna bet?_"

"All right I'm glad you're okay," Tom said quickly. "Paris out."

While Tom and much of the bridge had been listening that conversation, Seven and T'Lei had carried Chakotay into the Ready Room and laid him on Janeway's sofa. T'Lei stayed to make sure the blasts from the aliens didn't knock him out onto the floor. Seven meanwhile returned to her station. As she strode back to her consol, she gave an ominous look to Tuvok, who was seating himself in the captain's chair.

"I will not take orders from you, today," Seven said icily.

Tuvok looked up at her under an arched eyebrow. "You would prefer to take orders from the unconscious captain? Or the one currently in the brig?"

"I would prefer to take orders from Ensign Kim, as he's neither unconscious, nor against our return to Earth, nor responsible for driving a shipmate insane."

"Your sarcasm is noted. However—"

"I agree with Seven." Martis said. "The only thing that makes me less comfortable that being captained by a madman is being captained by the one who made him that way."

"Oh come on," Tom said, maneuvering around the blasts from the alien ships. "They did that for Chakotay's own good! He'll be okay, right?"

Harry's brown eyes traveled around the bridge, and saw the consensus. Mustering all his confidence, he finished dabbing his nose, and stepped in front of the Vulcan. "Tuvok, you've done _more _than enough to help. Let me take it from here."

Tuvok eyed Harry dubiously, scanning his now blood-covered Buster Kincaid costume. "Mr. Kim, your adventures with Captain Proton notwithstanding, I have more experiences in battles."

"Then I'll gladly take your tactical advice. I think we could use you at your regular station."

Ayala looked up from the security consol, making it clear that he'd be ready to step aside whenever Tuvok came back. Tuvok thought it over, and then surrendered the captain's chair. Harry took the seat, and resisted the urge to touch his blood-smeared face again.

"How're we doing Tom?" Harry asked, in a way he thought Janeway or Chakotay might.

"We're almost out," Tom said. "But there're are three Zunori ships sitting in the doorway. At this speed we'll crash right into them."

"We can't maneuver around them?" Harry tried to keep his voice calm.

"We can _try_, but I wouldn't—"

Voyager was hit from the front, and Tom was shot from his consol. He landed right in front of Harry and Kes, his blue eyes half-opened. Plasma burns covered his face, and blood streamed from his forehead, where he'd hit the metal step that the captain's and first officers chairs jetted out from.

Harry spun in his chair, and shouted to Martis—who was manning his ops station—"Beam Tom to sickbay!"

Martis's gold eyes bulged, and her fingers flew over the consol. As Tom's body vanished in the blue light, Harry's hand slammed over his com badge. "Kim to Sickbay! Doc, prepare for a Code White resuscitation!"

"_Understood!_" From the sounds of the clamoring medical tools, the Doctor was already moving to treat Tom.

"Someone should take the helm." Tuvok noted.

"Indeed." T'Vorah sprinted across the bridge and took Tom's seat.

"Harry," Martis said gravely, "Those three ships still block us."

"Slow us down T'Vora," Harry said.

"I can only take us down to Warp 5."

"Then do it!"

T'Vora made the adjustments, then announced, "We'll collide with the Zunori patrol ships in twelve minutes and thirteen seconds."

Harry nodded. "Twelve minutes." He looked around the bridge. "We can come up with a plan in twelve minutes, can't we?"


	3. The Reprucussions

**Part III: The Repercussions **

B'Elanna was so blinded by the pain of labor that when she heard the hum of the transporter, it didn't "click" in her mind. Only when she turned and saw Tom materializing on the biobed next to hers did she realize something had gone horribly wrong.

"Tom," B'Elanna groaned.

The Doctor was already moving around sickbay as fast as he could, gathering up tools.

"_Kim to Sickbay! Doc, prepare for a Code White resuscitation!_"

"Understood!"

B'Elanna squinted carefully at Tom's face, and saw his eyes were opened, staring ahead vacantly.

"TOM!"

"He'll be fine!" The Doctor barked.

B'Elanna's head fell back onto the pillow, and the tears began to well up. "_Tom_…" her grief was interrupted by another labor pain, and she cried out.

The Doctor's brown eyes were glued to Tom, unblinking, while he worked his tools over the helmsmen's head. Loudly enough for B'Elanna to hear, the Doctor insisted, "You're too stubborn to stay dead, Mr. Paris…"

* * *

Neelix and Alexia had all of Voyager's children hoarded in the galley, as if for a tornado drill. Of course, the swinging kitchen tools, and clamoring pots and pans, were not welcome. So the kids got to have a bit of fun, as Neelix ordered them to toss everything out through the doorway or over the counter, as far away from the galley as they could. Spatulas, cups, pots, vegetables, chicken legs, eggs, everything went soaring across the mess hall, as the kids took aim at specific chairs or windows. The windows themselves added an odd atmosphere to the rocking, shaking ship, as they displayed the swirling blue tunnel of the spatial rift. While the kids cleaned out the galley, Neelix sat in the corner with his pregnant daughter, holding Alexia by the shoulders, to keep her from being thrown or jerked around.

"Hey Naomi!" Metzoti held up a purple Vulcan fruit. "Wanna bet I can't hit that replicator?"

Majel suddenly screamed, and ran to her grandfather Neelix.

Neelix took one hand off of his daughter, and pulled his granddaughter under his other arm. "What is it dearest?!"

On the verge of tears, the Talaxian/Ocompan/Human hybrid moaned, "Papa thinks we're all gonna die."

Keeping children sheltered was difficult when they were telepaths.

The other children all stared at Majel, some in mid-throw. Alexia's blue eyes moved from her father to her nice, as she worked to send Majel some comforting thoughts.

Neelix looked his granddaughter hard in the eye. "What does Grandma Kes think, Majel?"

Majel was silent, as she read Kes's thoughts from the bridge.

Nordak, the Vulcan/Betazoid son of Vorik, answered for her. "I'm sensing great confidence from many minds on the bridge."

The kids stared in silence for several seconds. Chakotay's little Kolopak picked an apple up, and was disappointed to find that it didn't bounce. Naomi and Metzoti stared at the applesauce on the floor, half in a daze.

Then Alexia screamed, making everyone jump.

"Alexia?!" Neelix gripped her shoulder more tightly.

"No!" she brought a hand to her forehead. "No I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" She grabbed a shelf and pulled herself up. "It's time…it's time…!"

Naomi's eyes grew very wide. The other children just stared. Neelix pulled the back of his daughter's dress opened, to expose the Ocompan birthing sack, and began coaching her to "push" and "breathe."

Naomi, her eyes still bulging, looked around at the younger kids. "Don't just stand there everyone! We gotta help!"

More blasts shook the mess hall. Alexia gripped the shelf and Neelix held Alexia, determined not to let her and the baby get thrown by the blasts. Naomi led the kids in clearing away the galley floor of anything that might hurt Alexia or the baby, should they get knocked to the ground.

* * *

Kathryn Janeway sat in the brig with her legs crossed, staring into space. She was trying to decide what about this mutiny was really hurting her. It wasn't the humiliation. Nor the guilt of getting involved in an alien conflict. It wasn't even the betrayal. Because Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven and the rest made it clear that they didn't like putting her in the brig, or holding her at gunpoint. It was the realization that they all had something she didn't. Her undying loyalty to Starfleet came from the fact that she had nothing else. She wasn't particularly religions, and had no higher power besides Starfleet command, nor a higher set of morals than the guidelines provided by Starfleet. She had no children but her crew. Since Mark had given up on her, she had no hopes for love, except possibly Chakotay, and she'd thrown that chance away long ago. She was Voyager's captain, and nothing else. The realization that she'd soon be returning to Earth, with that one bit of identity stripped from her, turned her stomach.

The ship shook again, and Janeway gasped as she was knocked against the wall.

"Are you alright?" Lt. William Baxter asked, looking up from his security post.

"Fine," Janeway returned to her sitting position. "Fine." Massaging her neck, she ventured, "Can I ask how my ex senior officers are doing, on the bridge?"

Baxter swapped a look with the other security crewman, then tapped his com badge. "Baxter to bridge. The Captain—that is, Janeway wants to know how you're all doing up there."

Janeway was surprised when Harry, not Chakotay, replied, "Could be better, could be worse."

"Where's Chakotay?" Janeway asked, fearing the worst. "Tuvok?"

"They're fine Captain. Listen, I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. Kim out."

Captain. He'd still called her Captain.

* * *

"Okay," Harry leaned back in the captain's chair. "We're gonna have one shot at this. We—Martis?"

From the ops station, Martis was looking nauseated. "My sister's gone into labor."

Harry stared at her. B'Elanna and Alexia in labor at _the same time? _And Tom dead, at least for the moment…and Chakotay, well…

"She'll be fine." Harry assured Martis. "I need you," he looked at Kes, "And you, to hold that rift open, with all the telekinesis you've got. When T'Vora tells me we're in range, I'll order Tuvok to fire the torpedoes. Once the rift's been widened, you two need to make sure it stays opened."

Kes's eyelids dropped slightly. "My son's going to help as well. He's been listening."

Wix was working in Engineering, but he was his mother's son.

Harry nodded. "Good."

Voyager neared the end of the rift. The Alpha Quadrant was minutes away. Seconds. The end of the tunnel was visible on the viewscreen, with the three Zunori ships blocking it.

"We're in range!" T'Vora announced.

"Now, Tuvok!"

Tuvok fired, and the black starry end of the tunnel widened.

"Increase speed to Warp 7!" Harry shouted.

Voyager sped forward, and the ship shook harder with more blasts. Kes and Martis were gripping their chair and consol, working their minds to exhaustion, to keep that rip in the tunnel from falling shut. T'Vora suddenly stepped out of her chair, as another energy surge erupted from the helmsmen's consol. She wasn't as good of a pilot as Tom, but her Vulcan attention to detail meant she could stay _at_ the helm longer.

* * *

"I see the toes," Neelix exclaimed.

Alexia gasped, half from the news, and half from the pain.

Voyager suddenly shook, harder than ever before. Alexia was slammed against the wall, and Neelix fell over the (thankfully turned-off) oven. Without warning, the baby slipped right out of his mother's birthing sack. Naomi yelped and lunged forward. The baby fell against her outstretched forearms, his head snapping back. Naomi didn't care about the slime and grime; it was the child's neck she was worried about. She pulled the crying baby against her and moved into a corner. Alexia looked over her shoulder at the two of them, heaving.

Meanwhile, several of the kids had been thrown to the floor and gained injuries. Fortunately, Kol's Cardassian forehead protected him when he was smashed into a cupboard. Majel wasn't so lucky, having cut her hand opened on a kitchen knife on the floor that had slid back into the galley. Metzoti was holding the screaming girl in one arm, clasping her bleeding hand in the other. Azan and Rebi moved around the galley, gathering up anyone who'd been hurt or knocked over. Brexton nursed his broken blue arm, and Sergi (Jor and Tabor's son) had a busted lip. But no serious injuries.

Neelix helped Alexia down into a sitting position, and pulled the back of her dress shut again. They couldn't clean her up yet, but Neelix wanted to protect her in any way he could. Alexia held out her arms, looking at Naomi. Naomi inched over, holding the filthy baby, and put him in his mother's arms.

Voyager suddenly lurched forward, and the blue light outside the windows vanished. Everyone looked up. Naomi _stood _up. But no one said anything.

* * *

The world exploded back into Tom Paris, as he burst awake faster than he'd ever done when waking from a sleep or coma. Colors were strangely intense. The sterile smells of sickbay, the sensation of his uniform against his skin, the bed under him, had a kind of severity, as if it had all been thrown onto—or into—him at once.

The last thing he remembered was being burned at the helm. A fire soaring through his whole body, reaching his brain—

"Was I dead?" Tom shouted up at the Doctor, who was staring down at him.

And he realized his own voice was muffled by another sound. The sound of a baby crying.

Tom turned on the biobed and saw B'Elanna gasping. She was scooted up to the edge of her bed. Their daughter lay between her legs. The Doctor left Tom and rushed to tend the child.

"Tom!" B'Elanna's face was streaked with tears. "I did it…by myself…"

Tom realized that nothing was stopping him from getting up. He leapt off the bed, and took B'Elanna in his arms. B'Elanna stretched her own arms out, to take their blanketed daughter from the Doctor.

The Doctor had to leave the scene, as more injured and dead were beamed into sickbay.

* * *

"We're clear from the rift." T'Vora reported. "Zunori ships are not pursuing."

"Yet." Tuvok commented.

Harry felt numb as he stared at the stars on the viewscreen. Just looking, you wouldn't know the difference between the Alpha and the Dela Quadrants. For some reason, he'd imagined Voyager coming out right above Earth.

"Casualties are coming in," Tuvok reported. "Crewman Le Fleur and Ensign Tobin are dead. The Doctor was unable to revive them. Ensign Jenkins is in critical condition. Lt. Paris has been revived successfully. Lt. Torres, and Crewman Alexia, have also both given birth, to a healthy daughter and son, respectively."

Harry had felt like he'd been punched again, after hearing the word "casualties." He didn't get them all home. After seven years, Amalie LeFleur and Dar Tobin thought they thought they were finally going home, and…Harry rubbed his forehead. Of course there'd be casualties, that was part of being in command.

"I'm taking us through an empty region of space, until we can safely decrease our speed." T'Vora reported. "After that I will set a course for Earth, Starfleet headquarters." she glanced at Harry. "If that's our desired destination, Ensign."

Harry exchanged a glance at Tuvok. They'd all have a lot of explaining to do, when they reached Starfleet command. _A lot. _

Someone suddenly kissed Harry's cheek. Martis was standing behind him now, leaning over the railing. Harry felt his face turn beat red.

His face still burning, Harry nodded to the helmswoman. "Starfleet Headquarters, T'Vora."

* * *

The scandal aboard Voyager wasn't well received by the admirals in Starfleet, but when the mutiny was reported on the news, the general public only seemed to get more excited. Seven and the Borg children became overnight celebrities (much to their chagrin), for escaping the Collective; Neelix and Kes's family, to a lesser extent, also received fan mail from anthropology and astronomy professors, curious about their home quadrant. The controversy and conspiracy theories surrounding Commander Chakotay's sudden madness was just a bonus. Janeway's promotion to admiral had been met with mixed feelings, to say the least. There were those who thought some of her actions in the Delta Quadrant should have landed her in prison. Janeway wasn't so sure she herself wasn't one of them.

Janeway crossed the grassy fields with a storm of conflicting emotions inside her. Today was the first time Janeway would see Chakotay, since the trial, and the few times she'd visited him in the mental hospital. Chakotay's younger sister Sekaya exited the house, in a red skirt and a loose shirt with Indian patterns, and gave Janeway a warm greeting.

"Seven and the kids arrived two days ago." Sekaya said.

Seven and the Borg children were staying with Chakotay's tribe for a week, in part for educational reasons. Seven wanted the kids to get familiar with a "natural environment," and a culture that was quite far away from that of the Borg. But Janeway also knew that Seven and Chakotay had been growing closer in their last few months aboard Voyager."

Sekaya led Janeway into the trees. "We've weaned him off the sedatives, for the most part."

_For the most part? _But Janeway just said, "That's good to know."

Chakotay was sitting under a tree next to Seven, watching Icheb, Metzoti and the twins play hoverball. Kolopak sat between Seven and Chakotay, fascinated by a beetle crawling up his arm. All heads turned when Janeway and Sekaya came in sight.

"Captain!" Metzoti dropped the ball, and almost knocked Janeway over with a hug.

Janeway was completely taken aback. The rest of the group gave her an equally warm greeting. Chakotay could've fooled Janeway into thinking he was completely himself again. The civilian outfit he wore reminded her of a less militaristic version of his Maquis uniform. Seven actually had her hair down, with several braids woven in, and surprised Janeway even more by wearing a flowing brown dress. She'd "gone native," it seemed.

"How're you feeling?" Janeway asked Chakotay, after the kids returned to their game.

Chakotay rubbed the back of his neck, and then assured her, "I'm okay."

They took a little stroll through the woods.

"What do you remember?" Janeway asked.

"Almost everything, now." If anything about it bothered Chakotay, he was doing a good job of hiding it. "The mutiny's clear as crystal. It gets cloudy around the point where I lost it in the briefing room. After that it's like trying to remember a dream after waking up."

His voice might've fooled her, but Janeway noticed he wasn't looking her in the eye.

"I have my own theory, Chakotay."

He didn't respond.

"I think Tuvok, and maybe some of the other Vulcans, gave you a mind-meld at the last minute, to make sure you were confused enough for an insanity plea in court."

"If they did I don't remember it." he said, and Janeway was certain it was a lie.

"Chakotay," Janeway touched his shoulder, making him stop and look her in the eye. "If you're put back on trial, and I'm called to testify, I won't lie for you. Or Tuvok. Or anyone."

After a moment Chakotay said softly, "I wouldn't expect you to. Wouldn't _want _you to."

Janeway couldn't find any doubt or deceit in his face. So she let that drop and shifted subjects, just slightly. "The Zunori won't be bothering us again. The wormhole moved positions a day or two after we got home. They couldn't declare war if they wanted to."

"That was part of the plan." Chakotay said simply.

"But their society's going to suffer for your involvement in their conflict."

"As I understand it, a lot of those people were already suffering, under that government."

Janeway's voice turned iron. "That's _not_ for you to decide!"

"Kathryn I'm not having this debate!" Chakotay gave Janeway his infamous scolding stare-down. "We've all got loyalties, we've all got codes." He glanced across the field, at Sekaya, Seven and the kids. He turned back to Janeway. "Starfleet law's more important than me. I accept that Kathryn. So I hope you can accept that my Kol is more important that you."

Staring at Seven and the kids, Janeway realized Chakotay had just put her in her place again. Like he'd been doing for the last seven years. And like he'd probably be doing for the rest of her life.

Janeway made a surrendering shrug. "You're right."

Chakotay almost seemed to feel guilty about winning the argument, and changed the subject. "You wanna ask the others if they're ready for lunch?"

Janeway took his arm, and they began heading back to the others.

* * *

**A/N: This was NOT a "Fixer Fic," meant to undermine "Endgame." I actually enjoyed "Voyager's" last episode. This fic was just some fun musing. **

**Yes, in my other story, I said that T'Vora was Voyager's only Vulcan female. It's a continuity error. Which the real "Star Trek" saga would never do. **

**No, it is not possible for me to write a "Voyager" fan-fic where Chuck doesn't go crazy. His "crazy gene" was grossly underused on the real show, so I've got to compensate. **


End file.
